When I was young I dreamed of flowers and clouds, now I dream of the past and how good it used to be
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YOU ARE READING
Perfect Kind of Hell
Poésie'The torture of loving you was addicting You were like a drug that was forever in my veins Your harsh words did nothing but make me crave you more And your cruel hands did nothing but make me want to please you Everyone told me you were hell, an...
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When I was young I dreamed of flowers and clouds, now I dream of the past and how good it used to be
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